Rouge Robber
by Roxburry Black
Summary: California is bored and decides to embark on a life of crime as a highway robber. Unfortunatly America comes to investigate and is NOT happy with his state. *warning, contains parental America and spanking and fluff!


I do not own Hetalia.

When California had joined the Union she had been ecstatic, an American state, proud strong with the ability to make any one weep at her feet. Except her father, two former gaurdians and her siblings, bcuase then she'd get in trouble. Not that California minded getting in trouble, she just didn't want America to kick her out of the Union. That was a childish fear she later discovered. Right after the super formal signing of papers and passing over half of her pendent America had proceeded to hug her and exclaim.

"Welcom my dear," he said while crushing her into his chest. The humans had been amused and both state and nations were giddy with new surges of power. California had inherited Spain's bright green eyes and Mexico's black hair, with a slight but muscular many men had promised undying love to her.

But the 'honymoon period' finally faded and a year later she was bored. The house, originally built by the dons of Spain, was empty except for California. And it was a huge house to be alone with. For the past 35 years California always had seomthing to do, whethere fight against Spain or Mexico or help. Now it was calm, horribly calm, there was nothing for her to do.

So California did the most logical thing she could think of, she took up a hobby. Her new hobby was Highway Robbery.

California was delighted by this new hobby and took great pleasure in perfecting her skill. She was already a master sword fighter but what she worked on was sublty and speed. She wore clothes that would accentuat her curves and a mask to cover her face but lt her long black hair flow free. Her victims would stare in awe at her beauty and shake in fear at her weapons. She was known as the Masked Beauty to all of her state and unfortunatly for her, later to the men in Washington D.C.

Time Skip

The bank robbery went well and California felt resonably cheeful as she entered her barn and began putting away her gear Her horse knickered softly as she brushed him down.

"Good night for a bank heist."

Califarnia jerked around, blood running cold and heart in her throat, leaning against the wall in the fathest corner was America, cowboy hat tipped over his eyes and his dusty jeans and flannel seemed to meld into the he looked up California felt her knees quiver. America was glaring at her, blue eyes painfully bright and burning with righteous fury.

"P-p-padre?!" She choked out, backing against her horse and throwing her gaze around for a way to escape, "What are you doing,"

America cut her off sharply, standing up straight he demanded, "What am I doing? What are YOU doing young lady?" California didn't look into his eyes but glanced about some more," his voice was sharp, laden with anger and broached no room for argument.

'Ah, you know," California quailed as he advanced.

"No, I don't, enlighten me," he held out his hand, "Give me them."

"Give you what?" California offered a weak smile but America didn't look impressed.

"The mask, the money. Hand them over." His tone was demanding and eyes were flat and California had no choice but to hand over her mask and the three bags of cash. He turnd the mask over in his hand muttering, when he looked up and saw California staring at him his frown deepened.

"Attend to your horse," he ordered sharply and California spun around, picking up her brush began to brush the hoses soft fur.

"Padre?" she warbled as she finished.

"Be quiet." California went silent, bustling around the barn putting things back in place, America alternetlly watched between her and the money and mask, tapping his fingers on the mask in a thoughtful manner. When California was done she hovered nervously about, fear constricting her chest finally he stood up and turned to her.

His opened his mouth but closed it sharply and glanced her clothes, "What are you wearing" he demanded and California shuffled her feet nervously, yet another strike against her. She wore skin tight black pants, brown knee high boots, low cut puffy white shirt and an equally low cut lace up leather vest.

"Err," words stuck in her throat and the look he was now giving her was terrifying.

"California," he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, "How long have you been a state?"

"A year an a half senor," she muttered glancing up, America's arms were crossed and he stared levelly over her his glasses.

"How long have you been The Masked Beauty?"

California mumbled the answer under her breath, "Excuse me young lady?"

"Six months," this time she spoke louder and America sighed. California wasn't sure what to do, she knew getting angry would get her in more trouble, fighting even more so so the only course of action was to do nothing. This did not sit well with the proud state but she squashed the desire to take a run for it.

"Why," America's voice still dripped anger but now he seemed to have calmed down a little.

California looked up and opened her mouth, nothing came to to mind so she closed her mouth and ducked her head. There had been no particular reason except the desire to do something.

"You were bored weren't you?" California nodded guiltily, "California," She raised her green eyes to his baby blues and felt her botttom lip quivere. America's face was set in stone and he looked to be steeling himself for an unpleasent task, "Come here."

California knew instinctivly what was coming and her hands flew rear, "Padre, please, don't," she pleaded, heart thudding in fear.

"Don't make me come over there," warned America and she shook her head

"Please don't Papa, I'm begging you, Lo siento, por vavor," her voice trailed off as he took a deep breath.

"You have until the count of three," he warned and California clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head furiously, "Uno," oh no, he was speaking in Spainish, now he was really mad,"Dos, tr," California ran up to him, head bowed before he could finish his last word.

A gentle but firm hand wrapped around her upper arm and lead her out of the barn and up the path to the house.

Neither of them spoke, California was to ashamed and to scared to speak while America had nothing more to say. Cool wind blew over them and she shivered, not exactly from cold but from fear. The heat of the house was a welcome change from the relative chill of outside and it nearly relaxed the tense state but she was to worried. America said nothing, instead he opted to lead her to the living room. It was a large room with beautiul decorations, a mix between Spainish and Mexican styles. With a free hand he removed his hat and dropped it gently to the coffee table.

"Papa, please," California spoke up and stared pleadingly at him, "I'm sorry."

He sighed and released her, they stared at each other, "You're not apologetic, you would have been fine with terrorizing the people more. You're only sorry you got caught and are going to be punished for it. As a state it is your sworn duty to protect them, not steal from them. As my daughter," A tear slid out of her eye and down her cheek, "It is your duty to obey me." California bit her bottom lip and nodded, tears leaking out and joining the first one on the carpet.

America took a seat on the couch and gently guided her over his lap and California tensed her for the coming punishment and stared at the carpet.

"I love you California but some lessons must be re enforced,"a heavy hand settled on his back and there was a brief bought of silence until, 'SLAP!' California gasped and was given only seconds to recover before America brought his hand down again. California clenched her jaw and fist, promising herself she would not cry. SLAP

"Papa," she begged, breath hitching as he spanked rythmically and firmly, "alto, por vavor." There was no respite for the now contrite state as America, fully intent on punishing her, held her firmly down despite her thrashings and kicks.

Her kicking got so bad America had to pause simply for a moment to readjust the sobbing state, "California, do not make this worse," he warned and California shook her head, still crying. America might not have had a belt or hairbrush but his hand was calloused and he had tremendous arm strength.

SLAP, SLAP, SLAP, grimly America continued to spank California even as she cried into his leg and blubbered in unintelligable Spainish.

"Your not going to do anymore robbing," he demanded, spanking away.

"NO PADRE!" she wailed, "ALTO! Lo Siento!"

"You will wear modest clothing," he knew that he was being a tad ruthless but lessons mut be learnt.

"SI,' California's sobbing reached a cresendo and America decided to wind down.

He finally stopped, after what felt like an hour, to California but in reality was no more than five minutes. America rubbed her back soothingly as California shook with sobs. "California," he said but she continued to cry, "As further punishment you will come back to the esate with me until I deem your behavior good enough to continue living on your own." She didn't reply but he bundled her into his arms and she clutched his shirt and sobbed into his shoulder. He gently rocked her and continued to rub her back, "Shhhh, Its over now, you're okay." He muttered soothingly into her curly dark hair, "Shh." Her body shuddered as she sobbed and then hiccuped.

"L-lo s-siento papa," she sobbed and America's chest vibrated as he chuckled, tucking her head under his chin.

"Oh California," he said she finally began to calm down, "I love you," America nuzzled her hair and breathed deeply and California nodded.

She said something very quietly and America pulled back slightly, "Come again?"

"I love you to Papa," California whispered before burying her red face back into his chest and hiding her face. America hmmmed and stroked her hair, there was silence for a few minutes until she spoke up again, "Do I have to go back to the estate?"

"Yes," said America and he helped her stand up. He looked down into her red and swollen eyes and brushed a few stray tears away with his thumb, "Go get ready for bed and I'll come up to tuck you in, ok?" California rubbed her rear and nodded the other hand rubbing at her eyes. She turned and scampered up the stairs to her room, America smiled softly. It didn't matter how old or how many battles they had fought every single state reacted the same way to a spanking. Even Virginia, who considered herself the most mature had done pretty much the same thing a few months ago after an act of revenge on her older sister Pennsylvania resulted in the destruction of a large storage shed and injuring her sister severly. He waited for what he deemed the proper amount of time to get ready and went up to knock on her door.

"come in," the room was cool from the open window and dark but he could see the dim outline of California lying on her bed, a stuffed bull in her arms.

"Cali?"

"Si Padre?" He tucked the blankets around her form and chuckled when he noticed she was lying on her side.

"Buenos noches, hija," he said, brushing away her hair and kissing her forehead, "Te amo." California gave a face splitting yawn and snuggled down into her soft bed, clutching her stuffed bull closer.

Her eyes slid shut and she mummbled something that took a few seconds for America to desipher." "Te amo Papa." He felt his heart swell and with one last kiss to her forehead he slipped out of the room and shut the door quietly.

...So...read and review. Please, I need opinions (unless flamer, then go away.)


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